Excerpt: The God of Small Spaces

~ Chapter One ~

“In the movies,” said Nicholas, “whenever there’s a funeral, it always rains.”

Alice’s hand was cool in his, her fingers brittle as chicken bones. “If this was Hollywood,” she said, “there’d be rolling green lawns and black umbrellas and white headstones.” She stretched out her other hand, palm upturned and waited a beat.

The summer sun bounced off the tin roofs of the industrial park and beyond that, gum trees and Cape wattle wilted in the heat. “Not a drop.”

Nicholas tried for a smile. “Nor a camera in sight.”

“No umbrellas, either ….”

He looked down at the pale, dry, newly-turned earth at their feet.

“And no headstone.”

“No.” Alice paused. “You know, the whole tombstone thing is such an easy out. You just stick on the name and some dates and maybe a beloved and a deeply missed and let’s not forget the RIP: rest in peace. And it’s done. The dead are laid to rest. Easy, right?”

Nicholas felt her fingers fluttering against his palm.

“No,” he said. “Never easy. And especially not in a case like this.”

Alice freed her hand and looked up at him. “I thought I’d hate you,” she said. “All those months, when it was Nicholas this and Nicholas that, I used to imagine us meeting. I used to have these long conversations with you in my head.”

Nicholas smoothed the hair off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, but the unruly dark curl sprang defiantly free.

“The worst,” she said, shaking her head, “the worst thing of all was that in most of those conversations you got the better of me. You won, every time.”

“I did?” He couldn’t imagine how that might have happened.

“Yes, you did. That pissed me off more than anything.”

“Shit, Allie.” He scraped at the dirt with his boot then peeked at her. A single tear slid down her cheek.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was all in my head.” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose, delicate as a cat.

“Let’s get out of here.” He gripped her elbow and steered her across the dull concrete walks and dried grasses, and out through the ornate, cast-iron gates. She stopped next to her car, and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her bag.

“Do you think we’re going to be able to move on, Nicholas? Put this behind us? I swear, there are times when I just feel so damn stupid. Like it was all my fault, somehow. I believed everything—everything he said.”

Nicholas pursued his lips. The grief and rage were still hard, cold lumps in his chest. “It wasn’t all lies. But yes, we’ll get past this. If you believe anything now, believe that. And I’ll promise you something else, Allie.” He watched her pretty, dark eyes disappear behind the sunglasses. “It may not feel like it right now, but some time soon—maybe a year from now, maybe sooner—you’ll find that you can look back on all this and see it for what it really was.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” The skepticism was back in her voice.

“Bad luck”

Alice snorted. “Don’t tell me you really believe that.”
“I do. We’re the victims of an emotional mugging, Alice. There was nothing—nothing you or I did to invite this.”

“My therapist would disagree with you.” Alice yanked open the door and slid in behind the wheel. “She says I have a co-dependency disorder and I—”

“That is such bullshit.”

TBC